A Hero's Freedom
by ChoCedric
Summary: Disregards HBP and DH. "P-Professor ... they're all ... they're all waiting for me ... Mum, Dad, Sirius ..." "Go to them, child. It's time for you to go home." A tender conversation as Harry lies dying in Dumbledore's arms after defeating Voldemort.


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: I didn't like what Rowling did to Dumbledore's character in Deathly Hallows, making him so manipulative. I preferred the wise mentor he was portrayed as in previous books. So with that in mind, I wrote this little story. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please, please review! If you don't review, I have no idea what you thought!

A Hero's Freedom

By: ChoCedric

Albus Dumbledore sat in the hospital wing, which was an extremely busy place at the current moment. The final battle had just taken place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and many injuries were being tended to. A great sadness seized the Headmaster as he saw the full beds all over the wing. It wasn't fair that such young children had to be involved in such a brutal struggle. As he'd seen the many casualties throughout the battle, he'd wished with all his heart that this had never happened.

Then, as soon as Death Eaters started falling and clutching their Dark Marks in agony, he knew that Voldemort had been defeated. While the battle was raging at Hogwarts, another one had taken place at the Department of Mysteries. Voldemort and his most powerful supporters had convened there, with Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Hermione, Luna, Remus, Tonks, Moody, Shacklebolt and many other Order members there. Dumbledore had immediately known that Voldemort was using a diversionary tactic by going to the Department of Mysteries. That was why he had not left the school, because he knew Tom very well and had surmised that more Death Eaters were going to attack Hogwarts. So with a heavy heart, he'd sent the students and some of his best Order members to the Ministry while he, his staff, and many members of the DA stayed to defend the school. Other students had been evacuated.

As Albus sat in the wing waiting to hear how his comrades were doing, Fawkes flew over to him and perched on his shoulder. The phoenix began to sing a slow, sad melody, and the Headmaster immediately knew that someone very special did not have long to live. And he immediately knew who that person was. Fawkes sang with such sorrow, but with such hope as well. As Albus looked around, he saw Nymphadora Tonks enter the hospital wing, carrying a boy in her arms. It was the broken form of Harry Potter. He was bleeding profusely from many wounds, and he was shivering violently as the Metamorphmagus carried him over to a bed. Albus immediately rushed over, as did Poppy Pomfrey. Tears were streaming down the boy's face, and Albus gently took his hand as Poppy immediately started tending to him. Tonks gave him an "I'll-explain-everything-in-a-minute" look, to which Albus nodded.

Harry said nothing as Poppy's examination continued, and so did Albus. But he could see the boy looking at him, and he knew Harry knew he was there. Poppy started bandaging Harry's wounds, and tenderly brushed the hair away from Harry's face. Dumbledore noticed that the legendary lightning-bolt scar that had shaped Harry's destiny was now gone. Voldemort was really and truly vanquished.

"How is he, Poppy?" were the first words to come out of Albus's mouth, even though he already knew the answer. Poppy just gave him a sad look, and Fawkes continued to sadly sing on his shoulder.

"All we can do is try to make him as comfortable as possible," Poppy said, tears in her eyes. She got out some pain-relieving potions, and she and Dumbledore helped Harry to drink them. Poppy then squeezed the boy's hand, whispering, "We're all so proud of you, Harry. You did it."

"Th-thank you, Madame Pomfrey," Harry whispered weakly. Dumbledore tenderly took the boy into his arms and held him close, rubbing his back in comfort.

"Professor," Harry said softly.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I-I did it. Voldemort's gone. I don't know how it happened, but we-we were in the love room, you know, that room at the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yes, Harry. The room that contains the force more terrible and wonderful than any that came before it," Dumbledore answered, waiting patiently for Harry to go on.

"You said that usually that room is locked all the time, but it opened for us today. I guess it could t-tell that it needed to be used. We were in there f-fighting and Voldemort ... he killed them," Harry said, and Albus's heart broke as more tears fell down Harry's face.

"Killed who, my boy?" he asked gently.

"They're all g-gone, Professor. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus."

Dumbledore felt an overwhelming sadness grip him. It wasn't fair that this boy had had to bear such a burden, losing so many people he loved. He knew that over the past few years, Harry and Ginny had become a couple, and Harry had grown into a magnificent young man. He knew of Ron and Hermione's love as well, and had seen the teenagers mature from young children in the wizarding world to young adults thrust into a horrible war. All Albus could do now was hold Harry as he cried. He looked so vulnerable, like a little boy. But he had a perfect right to look that way, and Albus knew with a certainty he could not deny that Harry deserved nothing more than to be at peace. He gently brushed tears away from Harry's face as the boy's eyes focused on him again.

"And then ... and then ..." he said weakly, "I ... I don't really know what happened. I was thinking of all the moments I'd ever shared with them, and then Voldemort ... he just ... screamed ... and then he just kind of ... crumpled and died."

"The power the Dark Lord knows not," Dumbledore whispered. "Your capacity to love. As I told you two years ago, Harry, love hurts Voldemort so much that he cannot bear to be around it. The love that you have for Remus, your friends, and for Ginny destroyed him, because it was there in such great amounts."

Harry gazed at Dumbledore, understanding filling his face. "I miss them so much," he sobbed, burying his face in Dumbledore's robes. "I want to see them again."

"You'll see them soon, Harry. I promise." Dumbledore stroked Harry's hair gently, and the two were silent for a while. The only noise was that of Harry's ragged breathing.

"Professor," Harry then said, "are you ... are you scared of dying?"

"No, my boy," Dumbledore replied. "As I said before, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. I believe that life on Earth, Harry, is only one part in our journey. I am not afraid, because I trust that everything will work out as it should. I am an old man, Harry, one hundred and fifty-six years old, and I am getting very tired. I know that I do not have much longer on this earthly plane, but I am content."

"Sir, do you--do you have any regrets?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Only one, Harry," Dumbledore whispered, still stroking Harry's hair. "My one regret is that I wasn't able to save you from all the pain you had to go through in this war. If I could have, I would have taken it all away so you wouldn't have to live through it, child. It wasn't fair that you were thrust into this. You're only a boy."

Harry looked at him with sadness and love in his eyes. "Don't regret it, Professor," he said, his voice barely audible. "It wasn't your fault. I don't want you to leave the world having that regret."

Dumbledore squeezed Harry's hand, tears filling his own eyes. "Thank you, my boy," he said sincerely. "But I still cannot express how completely sorry I am."

"Don't be," Harry rasped. "Don't be sorry."

"Harry," Dumbledore said, "I want you to know just how proud I am of you. Even if you had not defeated Voldemort today, that would not have stopped my pride. You are a wonderful young man, and everyone who knew you and loved you has been extremely lucky, myself included. Thank you for teaching me many valuable lessons in life."

"No, it was you who was the wise mentor and taught me valuable lessons," Harry said, laughing weakly. A coughing fit seized a hold of him. Once it had subsided, he said, "And so I thank you."

Dumbledore gave a gentle laugh as well. "We learned from each other, then," he said.

"I'll never forget Hogwarts," said Harry, smiling as memories of the castle came flooding back to him.

"It is a wonderful place," agreed Dumbledore. "Whoever steps foot in this castle always loves it."

After a few more minutes of companionable silence, Harry suddenly said, "P-Professor, I'm so tired." Tears filled his eyes again, and Albus's heart broke as he knew the time was near. But he knew what he had to say to make Harry comfortable.

"Then go to sleep, Harry." he told him.

"Will I--will I see them again?" Harry asked in a small voice, and the Headmaster could see a little fear in his emerald eyes. "Will I see--will I see Mum and Dad too?"

Albus held the child even closer. "I'm sure you will, my boy. They're waiting for you, and they're so proud."

After a few seconds, Harry gasped, and his eyes filled with wonder. It was as though he had suddenly seen something that Dumbledore had not seen. "You're right," he said joyously, tears falling faster down his face. "I--I see them. They're all there. Mum, Dad, Cedric, Remus, Sirius, Ron, Hermione, and--and Ginny."

"Go to them, child. It's time for you to go home. You've been a very brave young man, and above all, you deserve peace," Dumbledore whispered, and he couldn't stop his own tears from falling. Fawkes then flew off his shoulder and landed on Harry's, where he released a few pearly tears of his own.

"Thank you," Harry said softly. "I--I love you."

"I love you, too, child," Dumbledore said, and he grasped Harry's hand within his own, listening to the boy's heartbeat.

Harry closed his emerald eyes for the last time, and took a few more breaths. Then, the breaths stopped, as did Harry's heart, and Dumbledore let the tears continue falling as he held the savior of the wizarding world in his arms. But he was much more than that to the Headmaster. He had been a boy, a young boy thrown into a world of unjust cruelty, and now, at last, he was at peace. He was a hero, a hero who finally had his freedom.


End file.
